Scarlet: The Forgotten One
by Rina
Summary: A story about Demona's mother. Please r&r)


From Double Jeopardy:

Scarlet: The Forgotten One 

By Rina, 2001

Gargoyles rightfully belong to Disney. All characters, except for the original ones, created by Rina. Please email me with your comments at [rina560@hotmail.com][1] . Reading "Angel's Breath" and "The Darkest of Promises" is recommended prereading. I probably messed up the whole time line thing; sorryJ 

Angela's voice: "Previously, on Gargoyles." 

    From "Vows": Demona: "Yes, I am you, your future self. You know I speak the truth. I've come back to bring you a warning. This is your future. See the destruction. The death of our kind surrounds us. Your one true love is frozen in stone at night. The humans did this, and you can stop it! You hold the power in your hand. To use the Phoenix Gate, you have but to think of a place in time. Speak the incantation and you will be transported there. With it you can accomplish anything. Do not give it to the Archmage. Do not share it with-- Do not share it! Use it! Destroy all the humans! Rule the gargoyles! Rule the world! It's all within your grasp! Believe me, I know exactly how you feel. But you cannot trust him. He's weak. He cares more for the humans than for our clan. The greatest favor you can do him would be to put him out of our misery forever. You must know I'm right. Can't you see? I am what you will become."

From: "The Darkest of Promises":

__

Scarlet had shown her to her tiny hut by the sea, the inside smelling sweetly of herbs.

"We are the humans protectors," the elder had said, stooping down to pick up a calico-colored cat, "but they do not appreciate this." She sighed. "I lost my mate in a battle protecting a village, and they repaid me with disgust."

"It must be terrible being alone," Demona commented, petting the purring cat.

"Aye, but at least I had a hatchling before my beloved died. All I can remember was that she had hair like my own…"

**

The starlight was the only thing that illuminated the large scales of the golden Dragon, who swooped and dove with magical nimbleness. She had had a terrible dream, a prophecy of things to come. A face, not of a fae or a demon or a human remained trapped in her mind, and a name followed it.

Demona.

918 AD 

Castle Wyvern, Scotland 

Dark, foamy waves crashed against the rocky cliff overlooking the angry sea, where a castle perched, its inhuman statues half hidden by the steady sheet of rain. A small band made its way toward it, led by a stern man with mail armor. Lord Donovan, an equally craggy faced man who was in charge of the party, pulled the leathery reins around his mare tighter, looking over at his new wife through the solid wall of precipitation. 

Madeline was sitting quietly on her own horse, her thick mane of chestnut hair contrasting with her ashen skin. Despite her natural beauty, her large, azure eyes and her full red lips, her depression made her look old, haggard. She was lonely and miserable, having left her relatives and friends behind in their province. Besides, he was almost twice her age and could have easily passed as her father. 

"Dona complain. We're almost there," he said crossly, though his wife did not look at him, only at the deformed statues atop the castle. 

"What are they?" She asked, her eyes widening.

"They are gargoyles," answered their brawny escort. 

"Aye, but I've never seen any like that," Madeline replied quietly as they entered into the courtyard. A group had gathered there, and Donovan immediately recognized his young cousin, who was almost Madeline's age.

"Adeoye ! 'Tis a pleasure to see you again," he said, as the other man welcomed him warmly. 

"Aye. And this must be your beautiful wife," Adeoye answered, helping Madeline off of the horse. She merely nodded at him, her blue eyes boring into his soul. 

The cold rain finally stopped before dusk, and the thick gray clouds had vanished, leaving only the indigo expanse of sky. Cracks began to form on the statues, accompanied by a dry crunching sound. All around the castle, the gargoyles began to move, breaking free of their stone shells.

"Who are they?" One of them, a light blue creature with ebony hair, asked, watching the group of visitors far below. There was a hint of venom in his voice, and his talons sank deep into the stone as he stared balefully.

"'Tis the prince's cousin and his new wife," replied the Leader, stroking his dark beard.

"Aye, 'tis nice to see new faces around here," his lavender-skinned love commented. 

The sky blue male only sneered and started to speak, before an amber-colored Gargoyle placed a hand on his broad shoulder. Of all the females, she had the strongest will, coupled with a fiery temper that matched her thick mane of crimson hair. She, like the rest of her species, had no name, though the humans tended to call her Scarlet, a nickname that suited her well. 

Tossing her thick hair back over her shoulders, Scarlet crossed her slender arms and looked at her mate, her deep emerald eyes boring into his.

"Ye shouldna judge someone before ye have met them, my love," she said, her leathery wings folding delicately as she spoke. Everyone muttered their agreement, then turned back to studying the group far below. The amber Gargoyle moved away, into the darkness underneath a stone ledge. Something also shifted within the thick shadows, and Scarlet narrowed her eyes warily.

"Ye are a fool sometimes, Scarlet," the blue male snarled, his eyes flashing a brilliant white as he stepped into the dim light of the crescent moon. 

"And why is that, my love?"

"Because they treat us like lowly beasts, that's why! Yet, ye treat them with respect!" Her mate's face twisted with rage, and he bared his needle sharp teeth. Scarlet tried to form a retort, but the other gargoyle held up one hand.

"Dona try ta protect them," he said quietly, walking back toward the shadows, "for one day ye'll see their true nature. And then it'll be too late."

"Here it is, mistress. Yer room," the henna-haired servant announced, setting down Madeline's bags even as the other woman stepped in. She did not respond; instead, she sat down on the large bed, facing the window. The sky was a depressing sight, and though it was night, the heavens were still tinted with dark gray.

" What is it, milady?" The servant inquired from the door. 

"Nothing," was the answer, though it was not true. Deep down, she loathed Donovan, hated him for taking her away from her family. Just the thought of looking into his emotionless eyes made her cringe, and she wanted to cry out, to be released from this prison. 

The servant, however, sensed that something was wrong and tried to start a conversation.

"Ooc, ye are lucky that ye didn't come earlier. There have been some Viking raids recently," she announced, lighting one of the candles beside Madeline.

"Vikings?" 

"Aye," the woman said, orange light washing over her fine features, "they've been attacking some villages around here. If it weren't for the Gargoyles, they would have been destroyed."

Madeline was silent as she thoughtfully chewed her lower lip. 

"And who be the leader of these Vikings?"

"His name is Dagfinn. He is a cruel man, and I fear that Scotland may someday fall to him," she told her, even as the rain began outside once more.

As the female servant began to put away the guest's things, she could not help but notice the malicious grin spread across Madeline's young face. 

"He sounds very…interesting," she said quietly. 

The servant tried hard not to shudder as an icy tendril of fear ran down her back. There was something odd about the woman, that she was sure of…

Behind her, a tall figure appeared, dressed in fancy robes. It Donovan, and he gestured for the servant to leave. The freckled-faced girl bowed, then scampered away in a flurry of skirts. As he shut the door softly behind him, he faced his new wife. 

"'Tis time for dinner," he announced, and scowled when he got no reply. 

"Why are ye avoiding me?" Donovan demanded, even as Madeline took a big step back.

"Leave me alone, Donovan," she said, her clear blue eyes cold.

"No! I am yer husband and ye shall listen ta me! Now," he snarled, latching onto her slim arm, "we shall go ta dinner-,"

"I said, leave me alone!" Madeline screamed, slapping him across the face with all of her feeble strength. That outburst only caused her husband's grip to tighten, as he dragged her toward the doorway.

"Shut up, wench," he snapped angrily. He was tired of her moaning, and he felt a deep shame whenever he saw himself mirrored in those azure eyes. 

Scarlet nimbly raced among the stone parapets, her fiery hair catching the dim light from the lanterns in the castle's arched windows. Around her, the other Gargoyles swooped and sang their mating songs, caught up in the frenzy of the breeding time. The amber female, however, ignored them and hurried along. There was something in the damp air, something that made her feel numb. 

As she reached the courtyard, she heard someone talking in a low voice, and she stopped, listening. It was the Leader's mate, her exotic hair blowing behind her as she talked to the human beside her. At first, Scarlet thought little of it, until the man, Donovan, reached out and stroked the violet one's cheek, murmuring softly. Her green eyes widened and she took a step back, shocked. 

The two embraced, and she gaped helplessly as their lips locked. Scarlet turned and ran, unsure as to what to do. The Leader would most likely kill them both if he found out. 

Cold rain pattered against the stone façade of the castle as Madeline searched for her husband, a reddish cape, dripping with cool rain, folded around her slender body. She had not been able to find him after that recent episode. 

A shape appeared in the courtyard, blurred by the sheet of rain. It was Donovan, she was sure of that, his familiar face with his dark grayish beard standing out against the solid wall of rain. As much as she loathed the very thought of it, she was about to call out to him, to try to mend the harshness that had formed between them.

That was, until she noticed the winged female beside him. It was the love of the Gargoyle leader, and they were talking. Then, to Madeline's fascination and horror, her husband reached out and touched the purple one's cheek and brow ridges, softly caressing her in such…such an intimate way! Perhaps…perhaps it was nothing…but, oh, how he lovingly he held her!

A memory, unbidden, came back to her, of when they were young, and how he had led her to a green valley. She had laid on her back, staring at the starry sky and finally blushing when he had brought a bright blue flower to her that matched her large eyes. How foolish she had been to agree to her father's wishes and marry the old man. 

Her hands trembling, she tried not gasp, even as hot tears began to brim within her eyes. The world became even more watery as she sobbed, trying in vain to flee what she had seen. 

The feast was underway when one of the guards signaled politely to Adeoye. 

"Yes?" He said, walking away from his dining guests.

Before him stood the leader of the Gargoyle clan, with his purple mate. The prince could not help noticing her beauty, even in the darkness of the castle. Tall, graceful, and silent, she had shimmering waves of sapphire hair that matched her almond-shaped eyes. 

"I've heard rumors that the Vikings may be coming back," the Leader said, folding his tan arms over his armored chest.

Adeoye looked back at his guests, then turned back to the Gargoyles, his face ashen. 

"This is true?"

The Leader solemnly nodded.

The young prince's face blanched, but he made a visible effort to remain calm.

"Where did ye see them?"

"About a half a mile away," the Gargoyle informed him, then turned his bearded head. 

"What is it?"

The male's dark eyes narrowed, then he looked back at Adeoye. 

"I thought I heard someone. Must be tha' wind."

Madeline had not eaten a morsel of food when the prince suddenly rose and hurried out of the cavernous room. She watched him avidly, then gazed at Donovan through the corner of her eye. He was busy eating a chicken leg, talking loudly and laughing. God, how she despised him-!

When no one was looking, the willowy woman stood up and followed Adeoye, stopping to hide behind a multi-colored tapestry. Madeline held her breath, listening as the prince talked with two of those strange, winged creatures.

When they began to speak of the Vikings, her heart thumped wildly within her chest, and she grinned when they revealed the enemy's whereabouts. Later, when the prince and the Gargoyles left, she found herself donning a hood and leaving the castle, into the darkness of night.

"'Tis the 'breeding season," Scarlet's mate told her, folding his wings and taking a step closer. 

"Aye, I know that," was the quick reply.

He moved closer, his fingers playing with her thick mane of hair. It smelled sweet, of lilacs and honey, and it made the Gargoyle feel warm all over. He took her face in his hands and their lips gently brushed. 

"My love," He whispered, her amber tail twining around his. She coldly pushed him away, not even making eye contact with the startled Gargoyle. 

"What is it?" Her mate questioned. She turned, the light from a nearby fire giving her hair the appearance of a dancing fire. 

"Not now!"

"My love.."

He frowned, disappointed. Like a wounded dog, he slunk away, and Scarlet watched him go, exasperated. The soft clicking of talons against stone made her whirl around, her hand to her chest. It was one of her sisters, a homely female with light green skin and elaborate fin ears. 

"What is it, sister?"

"Someone has left tha castle," the other female promptly stated, pushing back a stray strand of yellow hair behind one of her ears. 

Scarlet opened her wings and looked at her, confused.

"Who?"

"I dona know. Someone with a hood," was the reply.

"Have ye told the Leader?"

"Nay, he is not ta be found. And since yer one of the best warriors-,"

"Then I shall go," Scarlet offered.

The night was cool, the rain having stopped once more. Madeline moved along at a quick pace. It felt good to leave that accursed place, especially when she had decided what to do about her problem. Oh, how Donovan would squirm when he found out how she had betrayed him! As she reached the edge of the woods, she looked back once. Something moved in the sky, a black figure with huge wings and a lashing tail. It was one of them! She sped up, clutching at her skirts. Damn them, they couldn't catch her here! Her breath came out in ragged bursts as she forced herself to go faster…

Flaring out her wings, Scarlet gazed down at the fleeing figure below, wondering who it could possibly be. The damp night air swept her hair back as she dove, preparing to confront the person. Suddenly, another Gargoyle caught her eye, and she saw her mate. 

Forgetting the other person below, she faced her love as they landed. 

"What do ye want?" She asked, surprised.

"Just you, my love."

"Aye."

"Here, I want ye ta have this," her raven haired love said softly, placing a gold piece of jewelry into her hand. It was beautiful, the light catching the shiny, curved metal. As he lovingly watched, she put it onto her upper arm, enjoying it. 

Scarlet's warrior façade dropped as she grinned, her velvety wings draping across her shoulders.

"Ooc, ye just want ta mate with me."

"Tha's true," he laughed, slipping his hands around her narrow waist. Her query forgotten, she rested her head on his shoulder. 

His wings wrapped around her, and Scarlet glanced up, her green eyes catching the dim light. She gasped as his lips lightly brushed her chest, and she could smell the male's musk. She gave into it, as so many other females before her. 

"Sir, a young woman wants to see you," one of the younger warriors told Dagfinn. The blonde-haired, burly man looked up and stepped out of the makeshift tent. It was nearly dawn; only a few more hours and the first pink rays of sunlight would break through the indigo darkness. 

He frowned when he saw the hooded figure moving toward him, surrounded by armored Vikings.

"And who are you?" He asked, narrowing his gray eyes. 

The hood was pulled down to reveal a beautiful woman, her locks of chestnut-brown hair matted her to face.

"I am a friend," she replied, her full lips curving into a cruel smile. 

Dagfinn felt his mouth go dry as he stared at her ample bosom and shapely legs. Then, returning the wicked grin, he beckoned her into his tent.

"Now," he said, taking a long drink from a sheepskin pouch at his belt and wiping his mouth with the back of his meaty hand, "how can I help you?"

"I think I can help ye more." 

The Viking smiled again

The Gargoyles awoke the next night to mayhem, and the Leader immediately asked the nearest guard about the cause of it. The short man, covered in worn leather armor paused, gasping for breath. 

"The Vikings…they're…they're attackin' a nearby village-,"

The Leader's eyes flared a brilliant white, and he snarled. 

"We must stop them," he said, his bat-like opening up. The other members of the clan gathered around him, including Scarlet and her mate, who had just recently returned. 

"He is right," someone piped up, an aqua female with razor horns. 

As the rest of the clan fondly agreed, Scarlet's love turned to her, his expression cold.

"Why should we help tha' humans?" He hissed, and the red-haired Gargress placed a talon on his lips. 

"Because they protect us durin' tha' day. Ye should nay be so judgmental, love." 

"They are ungrateful creatures," the blue one protested, until he saw the annoyance cross over Scarlet's face. He looked away, though she heard him furiously mumble something about "next they'll be breedin' with us." The amber female was silent when he muttered this; her mind wandered back to the Leader's treacherous mate and her human lover. 

That very purple female was standing beside her brownish mate, her sapphire hair tied back into a thick braid. Her eyes briefly met Scarlet's emerald ones, and then quickly she turned away. 

"Come," the raven haired Leader said, gazing over at the thick clouds of black smoke that coiled up from the tiny village to their right. One by one, the Gargoyles soared up into the sky, dark silhouettes against the yellow moon. Scarlet ignored her mate; his hatred sickened her, and she only glanced at him once or twice during the flight. 

There were scenes of carnage everywhere when they arrived. Vikings were mercilessly butchering and pillaging, several houses aflame and their occupants horribly slaughtered. 

"How did they know ta attack here?" The Leader's mate asked aloud in her soft voice. 

"I dona know," he answered, drawing his curved sword as he landed, crouching like a sleek cat. He pounced on the nearest Viking, batting aside the human's axe. Scarlet wasted no time in leaping at a henna-bearded man who was preparing to kill helpless children; her razor claws raked deep through his soft skin, and he shrieked in raw terror and agony. Her own feline scream mingled with his as she tossed him aside, claws wet with hot blood. All around her, humans scurried this way and that; mainly villagers, fleeing for their lives. 

A tiny, black haired human child wailed as she struggled to free herself from a burning hut; the deep orange light of the fire lighted her small, pale face. Without thinking about it twice, Scarlet sprinted forward, thrusting aside a large chunk of wood and freeing the child. As she gently gathered up the sobbing human in her arms, she heard a horrible whooshing sound overhead, and she glanced up in time to see the burning log fly past, crashing into a stone church. 

The Vikings were firing at them, she realized, hugging the child to her and running for her life. Fear had overtaken her, even as another fiery log smashed through a squat house at her left. Panting, Scarlet put the human down and the little girl ran for her mother.

"Scarlet! Watch out!" Someone shouted, and she turned to see her mate, his blue face twisted in an expression of shock. Before she could utter a single word, her love pushed her aside, the huge log striking him instead. He was flung like a limp rag doll. 

"No!"

Scarlet, oblivious to the pandemonium around her, rushed over to her mate, who was lying on the blood-spattered ground in an unnatural position, his breathing ragged. Fire had seared his entire right side, leaving oozing, blackened flesh. 

"My love," she choked out, touching his hair soothingly, "Dona worry, I will help ye-," Even as she said this, the red-haired female looked around wildly, until she spotted a group of human villagers, who were watching on silently.

"I need yer help," Scarlet cried out to them, but no one moved to aid her. There was a long period of silence, punctured by her dying mate's gurgling. 

"Please, someone help us!"

Nothing.

The humans looked on with pitiless eyes, even as warm tears rolled down the amber Gargoyle's cheeks. 

"Please!" Frantically, she reached out to them.

"Get away from us, ye beast."

They backed away, disappearing into the shadows. Behind her, her mate's death rattle echoed around her, then nothing. 

From atop a grassy hill, Dagfinn and Madeline watched the village burn, sending up wisps of thick smoke and spitting out crackling fire. 

"It worked," she said, looking up at the Viking, who only smiled. 

"Are you coming with us?"

"Aye, I am," Madeline answered, as brawny arm slipped around her waist. The last thought of Donovan faded from her memory, and she passionately kissed him, enjoying her revenge. Indeed, they did leave, retreating back up north and eventually having a son.

His name was Eric, the future father of Hakon. 

"Scarlet, I am most sorry about yer mate," the Leader said, though the female did not turn around or even make eye contact with those around her. Sighing, the bearded male left, most of the group following with him. It was nearly dawn, but Scarlet did not notice; anger and sorrow clouded her vision.

"He died a hero," her homely, fin eared rookery sister told her consolingly. 

"Aye. And he was right."

Her pale green sister raised an eye ridge.

"About what, sister?"

"The humans are worthless. I should have known."

"Ooc, dona say such things, Scarlet."

The amber female's eyes lit up an angry red, and she snarled, baring her sharp canines. 

"'Tis true. They did nay even help him." Her words were laced with venom. 

"Not all humans are like that," was the protest. 

Scarlet's eyes remained as crimson as her long hair, and she didn't say anything as she stalked away furiously. 

****

919 AD 

Castle Wyvern, Scotland

It was the laying time; all the females were gathered down in the rookery, building straw nests and talking with their proud mates. Only Scarlet was alone; she was bitter, refusing the help of the others. The amber Gargoyle remained by herself in a dark corner, piling up a large mound of dry straw. Her hate followed her hate followed her everywhere, especially since the prince had not even bothered to come down to talk to her about her lost love. The fury had taken its toll on her delicate features; she looked old, deep wrinkles covering her frowning face. Only her fiery hair remained lustrous and full, though none of the bachelor males even noticed that anymore. 

Her small egg was the only thing that made her happy. Inside was the child of her mate and her, the only remnant of her love. Scarlet stayed with it all the time, only leaving to get food or water. It was during one of these trips that she ran into a human boy, who was teetering on the brink of adulthood. 

"Get out of my way, monster," he hissed. 

Rage took over, and she had already viciously kicked him into the wall before the other humans could help him. He lay there, a thin river of blood streaming from his mouth, even as Scarlet vented out her anger. 

"Get away from him, demon!" One of them shouted, heaving a rock at her. She screeched, eyes aflame, and flared out her wings. The red-haired Gargoyle decided that she would rend them all, her revenge for the way they had let her mate die. Just as she prepared to leap, though, a voice stopped her, freezing her in her tracks.

"Scarlet, stop!"

It was the Leader; the human mob dispersed when he landed. His face paled when he saw the human lad, his body marred by scratches and his breathing labored.

"What have ye done?" He demanded, eyes flashing white. 

Scarlet did not say anything; she only looked on defiantly. The pale green female was helping the injured boy up, not daring to look at her sister.

"Ooc, ye should be shunned for this," the Leader snapped, folding his brownish wings over his broad chest.

"Aye, but I am not sorry for what I did. The humans use us like work animals."

"I know that yer angry about yer mate, but ye still must apologize for what ye did."

"Never!"

The Leader saw the cold unwillingness in her emerald eyes, and he narrowed his.

"Then leave, Scarlet. Now."

The amber one was taken aback; never in her lifetime had a Gargoyle been shunned from the clan, though she knew that attacking the boy was more than enough reason to make her leave. She did not even argue her fate; wordlessly she flew up into the air, leaving the castle far behind.

Scarlet was not sure where to go; she was an outcast now, the most despicable thing a Gargoyle could be. Her body was still sore from the egg lying, and she stumbled through the forest blindly. Never had she felt so alone, and she lurched forward, refusing to cry. Her hate swelled up in her throat, but she forced it down.

Luckily, she was a skilled huntress and could kill enough for her to her to survive. Still, the loneliness was what would eventually kill her. Gargoyles were social beings and needed to be in groups. Cursing the humans, she stopped by a crystal clear lake, unsure of where she was. Scarlet had never ventured out this far in the woods, and the unfamiliar terrain was unnerving. Carefully, she built up a fire and ate the berries she had gathered, listening to the whistling wind. Shivering, she curled up beside the warm fire and slept. 

The next night, when she broke out of stone shell, she noticed the boot prints around her site; the humans had been close by. So she left, fighting her way through the thick forest, until she came to a strange place that didn't resemble the rest of the woods. For one thing, everything seemed a darker shade of green and the whole area seemed to be untouched by human hands. There seemed to be magic in the cool air, and as she pushed through the verdant trees, she caught a glimpse of something huge as it flew overhead. Curious, she followed it until it seemed to disappear into the night. Scarlet was in the process of leaving when she heard something behind her. Whirling, she came face to face with a gargantuan creature.

It was a winged dragon, with dark gold scales and piercing green eyes. Curved horns rose from its long head, curling backward toward its spined back, and enormous, clawed hands with pearly talons scratched at the bare ground. It was beautiful, in a feral way. 

"Wha-what do ye want of me?" Scarlet sputtered, realizing that she had no weapon.

The dragon's pure white wings, stretching over one hundred hands, spread out as the mountainous creature spoke. Its voice was not hoarse or low, as the amber Gargoyle had expected it to be. Instead, the monster had a soft, feminine voice, tinged with an eerie gentleness. 

"It is you that I have been searching for, Gargoyle." 

Scarlet instinctively backed up, frightened by the golden dragon. 

"I-I dona understand."

"Ssss. Do not be afraid of me."

"Who are ye?" Scarlet's dark green eyes were wide. 

"I am Eve, though your species call me the Dragon." 

"The Dragon?" the female was taken back by this. The Dragon was the mysterious deity, the guardian, of her race. She knew little about the legend, except that the creature had once been a fae, reduced to a mortal and who died, her soul appearing as a huge dragon.

"Yes."

"Why-why do ye want me?"

"You have a child, no?"

"Aye," Scarlet gulped, wondering what the Dragon could want of her small egg. 

"Ssss. I have seen much trouble in store for her."

Her? So her child was a female. 

"Why do ye tell me this, Dragon?"

"Because you can stop her, Gargoyle. Before wickedness claims her soul."

The Dragon's golden head, gleaming in the pale light of the moon, moved closer, warm breath that smelled sweetly of fresh flowers blowing across her face and ruffling her red mane. It was as though she was trapped in a dream; everything moved so slowly, and suddenly she could understand. It was though a veil was pulled from her eyes, and then she was alone, hunched over in the dewy grass, gasping for breath. 

****

949 AD 

Castle Wyvern, Scotland

Scarlet perched in a towering oak tree, watching as the young Gargoyles were greeted by the clan as they returned from their first flight. She studied each carefully. There was a pretty female with tan skin and yellow locks, her horns curved into her head. Next to her was a chubby purple newborn, his raven hair reminding him of the Leader and his violet skin of his mate. There were a host of others; a coral male, a brilliant jade female, a little olive Gargoyle with spikes across his snout. The one that caught her attention the most was a shy youngster with azure skin and scarlet hair that was a duplicate of her own. 

My daughter, she guessed, recalling the words of the Dragon. Silently, almost regretfully, she flew away, back to the tiny hut that she had built by the sea. Scarlet was not quite sure if her former clan knew of her existence here, but she cared little if they did. Her dwelling was small, on one of the overhanging cliffs. She furnished it with little, save for a windchime, some bottles of herbs, and a rusted knife that she used to protect herself. When the sun came up, she was at the window, watching her daughter with sorrowful eyes. 

"Ooc, my men are worried," Adeoye said, as his young son, Malcolm, yanked insistently at his robe. The Gargoyle Leader sheathed his curved sword and raised an eyebrow ridge. 

"Why is that?"

"They have been talking about a rogue Gargoyle."

"A rogue Gargoyle?"

"Aye. They say tha' she has been eating wee ones and casting wicked spells," Adeoye told the tall creature. The black-haired Leader was quiet; he had a feeling as to who the Gargoyle may be, though he had thought her to be long since dead. 

A small smile spread across Scarlet's face as she watched the children clumsily glide. Her attention remained mostly on the red-haired one, her daughter. The young creature was very agile, though she fell more than others, most likely due to the fact that she did not trust the instructor. It was during one of these times, when the blue child fell, that Scarlet stepped out of the heavy shadows, her wings furling around her amber body.

The little one was sobbing and clutching at an angry scrape on her knee, though she stopped when she saw the older female. Her dark green eyes watched Scarlet's every move, even as the other Gargoyle stooped down beside her, soothingly touching the red scrape. Before either could speak, she heard a twig snap behind her.

It was the Leader.

"Go with the others, lass," he told her child, and when she was gone he narrowed his eyes and said, "ye are nay welcome here, Scarlet."

She bared her teeth, eyes flashing. The Leader's expression and position told of his wariness; Scarlet was an excellent warrior and would be a difficult foe to battle with.

The female, however, did not provoke him; instead, she headed back to her tiny hut, watching him over her shoulder until he was gone. Then, quietly, stealthily, she made her way back to the castle, where the scarlet-haired one was sitting, watching the rolling sea. Slowly, she reached into the leather pouch at her waist and withdrew a wrapped item, placing it beside just below her daughter. 

Then she too disappeared.

The azure child noticed the tiny package, meticulously wrapped in white linen. Eagerly she opened it and smiled at the sight of the gold arm band, the same one that her father had given to Scarlet so long ago. Grinning, she placed it on her arm, wondering who had given it to her. 

Two long, lonely years passed, though Scarlet spent the time indirectly communicating with her child. Occasionally, she would follow her, watching the way she grew up. Never did she forget the Dragon's warning; the deity had chosen her for some reason, and she would not allow her daughter to become wicked like the wretched humans. 

One warm summer night, she finally got a chance with her little one. As Scarlet made her way up a grassy slope, she saw several human children, taunting the blue Gargoyle. When they saw the adult, they ran, leaving her daughter on the grass, bleeding.

"Elder," she said softly, "why do they hurt me so?"

"They do not understand," replied Scarlet.

The young one did not say anything.

"Come with me," Scarlet said, motioning with an amber claw. They went down to her small hut. 

"We are the humans protectors," she told her daughter, stooping down to pick up her cat, a stray that kept her company, "but they do not appreciate this." She sighed. "I lost my mate in a battle protecting a village, and they repaid me with disgust."

"It must be terrible being alone," the azure Gargoyle commented, petting the purring cat.

"Aye, but at least I had a hatchling before my beloved died. All I can remember was that she had hair like my own…"

This did not register.

"Ooc, ye should be getting' back to tha castle. 'Tis almost sunrise," Scarlet told the young female. Gently, the child put down the cat and left, and she didn't see the single tear as it made its way down the amber one's cheek.

Much to her surprise, the child came back to her home often. Scarlet told her about almost every one of her experiences, except for her visit with the gold Dragon. That, she decided, could not be told.

A few months after the first visit, when Scarlet returned to her hut from gathering herbs, she felt an eerie feeling wash over her. It was just like the time when she had met the Dragon, and her heart raced as she lit a candle. Only her cat was in the dark room, and she sighed in relief until the cat sat up, its eyes glowing a brilliant green. She gasped and backed up, knocking over a few old bottles, their powdery contents spilling on the dirt floor. 

"It is me, Gargoyle."

"The-the Dragon?"

"Yes." The calico cat's tail swished. 

"Why are ye here?"

"I was merely checking up on your progress."

Scarlet reluctantly withdrawn her hand from her heart, cold sweat beading on her forehead.

"Ooc, I am tryin', Dragon," was the faint response. 

The cat seemed to smile, then turned its head, ears perked.

"What is it?"

"Run!"

"Wha-," she didn't have time to react; the arrow smashed through the window and deep into her thigh before she could even move. Roaring in pain, she turned to face her attackers, feeling the hot blood run down her bare leg. There were several of them, armed with swords, knives, and bows, each leering at her. 

"Well, well. If it isn't tha she-demon. This is yer last day on earth, witch," one of them, a blonde haired man sneered, darting back when she slashed at him in fury. Nimbly, she lunged at them, dragging her wounded leg and hissing. 

Then something hit her between the shoulder blades, sending agony screaming through her body. For some odd reason, as she fell, she could hear her daughter's voice, saying, "Why do they hurt me so?" Scarlet crashed to the ground, her body numb. They swarmed on her, like a ravenous pack of animals, but her only thought was of her child and how she had failed her.

Merciful darkness claimed her and she knew no more. 

   [1]: mailto:rina560@hotmail.com



End file.
